


Just a Word

by This_One



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28610829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_One/pseuds/This_One
Summary: A story of Alexander "Caustic" Nox overcoming his sociopathic tendencies.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Just a Word

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for no discernible reason. If you like reading it, great. I might make more. 
> 
> In the absence of an official explanation, I have the Legends never actually dying in the games, instead being "Respawned" back at their ship.

The last experiment had gone… poorly. After flying all the way out to Olympus, he had hoped to gather more data from the endeavor. He'd been matched with two nobodies, whose names he hadn't bothered to learn. His inferior companions, as is their way, quickly fell to the more strategically minded in the arena. He can't concern himself with babysitting while furthering science. And when it came time for his gas to claim its first victim of the day, he was quickly overwhelmed by the subject's squad. Crypto was the one to land the final blow, as infuriated as that makes him. He muttered something in his language when he did the deed, but it was, of course, unintelligible to him.

As of now, he sits alone in his respawn chamber, reflecting on the last hour. He didn't get even a single data point. And it will be 3 weeks before the next game. In frustration, he slams his fist into the metal wall of the chamber, having at least the sense of mind to not aim for the respawn coffin he just emerged from. 

"Fuck!" As soon as the word leaves his mouth, he's repulsed by it. He is a man of science, a sophisticate, above the use of such vulgarities. And to take out his anger on steel is so barbaric and wasteful. He's certain some of the other legends trash their chambers regularly when this happens, but he is superior to them. As he's rubbing his now bruised hand, he looks at the dent he made in the wall with no small amount of disgust. It is an outburst of emotion he'll be sure to not repeat. He turns from it and gets to the task of dressing himself. His outfit is a lab coat of excellent quality with black shirt and slacks beneath it. His gas mask has been replaced, for the moment, with a simple pair of spectacles. 

Emerging from his respawn chamber, he nearly collides with Mirage, who had been walking from the right. "Woah there, Big Guy! Didn't expect to see you here." He's wearing his casual attire, which consists of a scarf, small coat, t-shirt, and blue jeans. Wholly unremarkable, in Nox's opinion. "Lucky I don't have a gun. Still got my Games reflexes on, can't be sneaking up on me." He makes finger guns and smirks his trademarked grin. 

"Hmph." Given no reason to engage, Nox walks right passed him, chin raised slightly. He has always found Mirage's particular brand of stupidity insufferable, even more so than the average person. He avoids contact with him when possible.

But this time, he's persistent. He runs up next to the chemist, keeping pace. "Hold on there. I distinctly remember hearing some inappropriate language from one of the chambers. I figured it was Octane or Gib or someone, definitely not you. But since it's just you and me who've been knocked out…"

He has the sudden and nearly irresistible urge to choke the life out of this insect. He's moments away from doing just that, when he realizes the futility of it. He'd just end up back in the chamber he came out of moments ago. And the Syndicate wouldn't stand for having their resources wasted like that. Instead, Caustic lets out an exasperated sigh, somehow sounding both pained and infuriated. "I have experiments to conduct. Please-" He breaks into a coughing fit, turning away from Mirage as he hacks and rasps, completely stopping his sentence in its tracks.

"Oh, wow. Uh… you okay? You good? Can uh- can I get you like water or... something?" He almost reaches out to touch the man, then realizes what he's about to do and recoils. He does look around for water however, skipping over to the cooler and filling a cup.

The coughing fit continues for a few more seconds, until finally it tapers off. Under his breath, which is about the only volume he can manage at the moment, Caustic rasps. "It's getting worse…" When he turns back to Elliot, he sees him approaching with a cup of water.

"He- uh, here." The smirk is gone, replaced by a nervous, slightly concerned expression. 

As much as he detests the man, water is water, and it's exactly what his burning throat requires. He takes the cup, slowly sipping it while avoiding eye contact. "Thanks."

"No problem. The Legends are family." He says it confidently, and then remembers which Legend he's actually talking to. His confidence wavers slightly. 

It's Caustic's turn to smirk. His is ever more rueful though, practically dripping with spite. "Is that so? Does that include the Simulacrum?"

"Ah. Well, there are always… exceptions to rules. You're a… science guy, you know that." He rubs the back of his neck, nervously smiling. 

"Death is my science, and it makes no exceptions." He revels in the scared look he gets from Mirage, and he can't help but chuckle. "But, if there are exceptions to this… family rule, then I am one of them." With that, he downs the rest of the water cup, turns around, and walks away towards his cabin.

Mirage watches him walk away for a moment before taking a step after him. "You're wrong."

That gets him to stop. Nobody has told him that in quite some time. Fascinating. He slowly turns around, glaring at Mirage, who is standing in the very center of the common room. "Elaborate."

"Not to be cheesy, but," He swallows. "You… you are part of the family." 

Few things shock Caustic these days. He's collected enough data and lived long enough to where most things are expected. This— was not. He stands there with eyes widened for an inordinate amount of time. The hissing of the respawn chambers snaps him out of his stupor. Someone else will be here soon, and he can't afford to be seen at a loss by more than one Legend. "That is… illogical. I show you none of the behaviors generally associated with family." He stomps back towards Mirage. "You don't even know the first thing about me." The cup gets crushed in his hand, and he drops it on the ground. "To call me family would be foolish at best." He gets within a foot of the man, scowling down at him with his fists clenched. "And _dangerous_ at worst." 

As expected, Elliot gets steadily more nervous as he's approached. He even reaches for his hip holster, but of course there's nothing to grab. Surprisingly though, he doesn't run away. He takes a step or two back, but once Caustic has completely closed the distance on him, he looks up with uncharacteristic determination. "It isn't about logic, Big Guy. It just is."

"That's… meaningless!" Mirage really is the most insufferable Legend. With just an unsupported claim or two, he has Nox losing his meticulously crafted cool. He keeps his hands off the man, but more than the necessary amount of emotion slips into his voice.

"Eh, maybe. What do I know, I'm just an insect, right?" He gives a lopsided grin, shrugging noncommittally. 

"You've never been more correct of anything. I'm done with this." Caustic, before he can give in to the urge to smash that smug face in, turns and marches out. If Elliot says anything on his way out, it is ignored. He just wants to get to his dormitory and immerse himself in a new experiment. Ideally, he would forget about everything the idiot said, but that's not his modus operandi, which involves meticulous and detailed thought regarding everything. 

Even as he reaches his space, he's stewing over Mr. Witt's blind faith in him. It could be used of course, but that's not what he's thinking about. No, it's the origin of it. It's not uncommon for him and many other Legends to make baseless claims regarding their beliefs, he's gotten used to that. But they're sourced from what they want to believe, and how they wish the world was. Why would Mirage even want to delude himself into believing they were closer than they are? He would cite loneliness and desperation, but Elliot has all the other Legends that would gladly engage in familial connections. Why would he need him in particular? He isn't warm or caring, and he doesn't even qualify as good by their limited morals. There is no logical reason he would be so insistent. 

And that's wherein the problem lies. Nox has dabbled in many fields of science, but Psychology was never his strongest. Even still, he has a substantial grasp on why most people do what they do. It is necessary to explain their behaviors, and thus, predict and manipulate them. But Elliot's behavior is unexplainable. It's pure, unadulterated madness. And contrary to what others may think, that isn't something he understands well. 

He sits down at his desk, taking off his glasses to rub his face. Today he failed to gather any data, got knocked out of the games by Crypto, and lost his composure in front of another Legend. A substandard day if it were to end here, but it won't. Nox returns his glasses and uses the datapad at his desk to review his experiments, from in progress to completed. It's nothing groundbreaking, just some new compounds he's working on stabilizing. Their lethality would then need to be tested, but the first step is to create a process through which they can be produced in large enough quantities to test. 

After taking stock of what there is to do, he gets up and immerses himself in his work. Centrifuges whir and vials hiss as the reactions take place. The hallway gets noisier as Legends die and are returned to the ship, but he blocks all of that out in favor of his work. The others tend to congregate in the common room to watch the rest of the game, sometimes after they spend time cooling off. He doesn't join them, though he plans to go over the footage after the fact. 

Even as he busies himself with science, a part of his brain is almost always dedicated to theorizing about Elliot Witt. When there is a break in work while a chemical is processing, his mind defaults to Mirage and his faith in him. To Elliot, Nox should be an unknown variable at best, and a foe at worst. He's never told him a thing about his past and never shown him a shred of warmth. It simply doesn't make sense to call him family. Before he can spiral too far, his thoughts are interrupted by another coughing fit. He supports himself on his desk as he doubles over in pain. Metal clatters around and the mug he was drinking from falls off the edge, shattering next to his foot. His throat burns as he gasps between coughs. Eventually, after nearly half a minute, it finally ends, leaving him sucking in breaths to try and refill his aching lungs. 

There's an urgent but light knock on the door of his dorm. "Dr. Caustic?" It's Natalie's voice, full of concern. "I heard a noise and then the coughing and… are you okay?" 

He falls back into his chair as his ragged breathing slowly evens out. He looks down at the shattered ceramic pieces on the floor. "I'm fine, Ms. Paquette."

"That sounded really bad, Doctor… can I come in?" 

He doesn't particularly want anyone to see him right now, but it is Natalie. She's a professional, a genius, and the only Legend he could say he has any kind of positive opinion of. "I have no objections."

No sooner than the last word leaves his lips, she's opening the door and entering. She first looks at Nox himself, who is still in his lab coat, though it has a few splotches on it at this point. Around his feet are the remains of his mug and a puddle of dark liquid. "Oh no! Your mug! What happened?" 

"A simple mistake. No great loss." He slowly stands up, trying not to show his discomfort in doing so. "I appreciate your concern, Ms. Paquette, but everything is fine."

She gives him a questioning look. Instead of leaving, she closes the door behind her and walks fully into the room. "That coughing sounded worse than usual. I could hear it from far down the hall. Please, Dr. Caustic, sit back down. I'll handle this mess." 

He considers refusing; it's not her responsibility and he doesn't want to seem weak, but again, it's Natalie. He knows she only wants to help. Wordlessly, he walks away from the shattered cup and to his bed, sitting down on its edge with a sigh. 

"Very good. I think you…" She trails off as she opens the door of his closet, looking for cleaning supplies. "Aha!" She successfully finds all she needs to clean up the mess and gets to work. She doesn't say anything while she does, other than quietly humming to herself. 

Caustic watches her intently, wrapped up in his own thoughts. Mirage's words have him thinking about his relationship with the Legends. If Mirage, someone he's shown only spite, thinks they're family, he wonders what Natalie thinks about him. She's the only one he has shown anything that could be considered kindness. Then there's Gibraltar, who's tenuously keeping his secret, but under a watchful eye. He's certain he's hated, but also, hate isn't a disqualifier for family. He is protecting him in a way, which is what family is. 

"Dr. Caustic?" Wattson has finished sweeping up the pieces and using a towel to soak up the spill, and now she stands with her hands placed on her knees, looking down at him. 

He snaps out of his own thoughts and meets her gaze. It's a cold stare at first, but he softens it when he notices her reaction. "Thank you, Ms. Paquette. Your kindness does not go unappreciated."

"It's no trouble at all, but… I'm concerned about you, Doctor. Elliot said you had another coughing fit earlier, worse than the last, and now this happens?" She sits down across from him in the chair, still looking at him with worry.

Of course the idiot has already blabbed. "It is okay, Ms. Paquette. All things end."

That was apparently not the thing to say. She looks mortified, and her hand shoots out to rest on his knee. "No! Don't talk like that, Dr. Caustic, please. I don't want you to 'end' any sooner than you must. Now, I know you don't like questions that aren't academic, but… please tell me what ails you. Maybe Ajay can help, or someone at the Syndicate."

"No." That's all he was planning to say, but she looks at him with the saddest expression. It's one of despair, and that's enough to answer his question about their relationship. He had the same reaction when faced with the possibility of her death. Akin to losing a family member. "Calm, Natalie. I still have long to go. Occasional coughing fits will not impede my work."

"I know, but… did you just call me Natalie?" 

Damn. That was awfully unprofessional of him. He just called a fellow scientist by their first name. "I… did. My apologies, Ms. Paquette."

"No, no! I'm happy!" Sure enough, her sadness from earlier has all but faded. "Call me Natalie whenever you like, Dr. Caustic. I only wish I had your first name as well, but I understand your secrecy."

She really doesn't. But that gets him thinking about his identity. He first ended Alexander Nox because he was a criminal on the run. But in the Games, there's Loba, a notorious thief, and she doesn't bother hiding her identity. And, of course, Revenant, whose rap sheet would be even longer than Nox's. But it's not about getting caught at this point. He's sure, as long as he kept bringing them money, the Syndicate would keep any charges off him. There are other reasons his identity must be hidden from the public. Though telling Natalie isn't the same as telling the universe. But, his true name doesn't produce the best results when researched. He dislikes that this is a concern, but he doesn't want her opinion of him to suffer because she knows who he really is. "...maybe one day, Ms. Paquette. For now, Caustic is sufficient."

"Of course, that's fine. I think every Legend has events in their past they'd prefer hidden. But, if you cannot tell me who you are, could you at least tell me what has you so sick?"

Nox tries to find a reason he shouldn't, but they're hard to come by. It doesn't help that part of him wants to tell her everything. An illogical, emotional part that he has spent his entire life suppressing, but still a part of him. Eventually, he elects to tell her at least that. "I've been a chemist for a long time, Ms. Paquette. I did not always have access to proper safety equipment."

"So you… poisoned yourself?" She seems in disbelief. 

"That is… one way to phrase it, yes. It is an insignificant cost in the face of furthering science." It was hard when he was on the run. No lab, no supplies, but an intense dedication to perfecting his gas. He couldn't just stop his research, any day could've been his last and his gas would never be more than an unrefined, flammable pesticide. He had to improve it, no matter the risk.

"Your life isn't insignificant!" She's upset again, frowning at him, seemingly disappointed this time. "Are you sure there's nothing that can be done for you? Have you seen a doctor?"

"I am a doctor." 

"Yes, but…"

"Though I am much more adept at causing death than preventing it, there's no one more knowledgeable on my own compound. If there was a cure, I would have found it." 

"But you're not a doctor of medicine! There's no way you can know that. You should at least talk to Ajay; let her examine you." 

"Ms. Paquette. Calm-"

"No, Dr. Caustic! I'm not going to let this go! I don't want you to die…" She's on the verge of tears, her voice catching in her throat.

That gets him to quiet. She's this distraught at the mere thought of his death, and his reassurances only seem to make it worse. He doesn't want to see Ajay for any reason, certainly not to be examined, but he has trouble saying 'no' again. He's not used to the feeling Natalie's inducing in him, though he's smart enough to recognize it as guilt. He's feeling guilty for dying. This is why he avoids relationships; they're irrational. 

The two are silent for quite some time. Caustic doesn't know what to say, this is well out of his area of expertise, and Wattson has made her stance clear. This isn't a scientific debate where they can each provide evidence for their stances and eventually resolve it. This is just… opinion.

Nox considers the cost and benefits of giving into Natalie's desires and getting a check up. It will show weakness to her and Ajay, perhaps more if word gets out. It will involve an embarrassing and unnecessary process with Ms. Che. It will take time, though it isn't as if he has any data to pour over. And there's no guarantee Ajay would even help him; he wouldn't do the same for her if the roles were reversed. On the other hand, it will appease Natalie. Perhaps it will help her come to terms with his eventual death, if she were to know more about it. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't know the specifics of his condition. Maybe Ajay would be able to give him a time frame, but a cure is out of the question. His poisons are designed to kill. Curing it would imply he failed when creating them. "Natalie." He looks up and softens his expression, something he's growing accustomed to doing when around her. "I will speak to Ms. Che."

"Oh thank you, Dr. Caustic!" She leaps from the chair and has her arms around him in an instant. 

Rarely had he been at a loss for words in the past, but now, for the second time today, he freezes up. He doesn't move a muscle as she squeezes him. He hasn't been hugged since he was a child; the feeling is completely foreign and…

It's only for a moment, and she soon lets him go, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, Doctor… that was terribly unprofessional of me."

"No, I…" He clears his throat, suddenly finding it not only difficult to speak, but also to think. "It's… fine." 

She smiles. "Alright. The Game is still going, if you want to come join us. Revenant and Pathfinder are in a squad, and it's really funny to watch."

"No. Thank you. I need some time to think." And he really, really does.

"I'll… leave you alone then. I'll come by tomorrow to check in." She waves and is gone a moment later, leaving him alone in his room once more. 

He's left with a dozen things to think over, not the least of which is…

Why did he enjoy that hug so much?


End file.
